Tuesday, October 30, 2018


you say
and i hear promises that never left your lips
i see futures so clear they feel like memories
iʻve lived a hundred times over
i taste your breath again
like you never left
i smell your skin on my fingertips
someday you say
and i feel, instead of think

you say
and i remember
all the somedays i collected that never arrived
all the visions that faded
all the beautiful women iʻve loved and lost fiercely
who left me behind
who i gave gave gave to
until i was left with only my shadow
and the whisper of my own voice
how i had to crawl back to the forgotten mountain of myself

you say
and i am displaced
and everything i know is suspended in past or future tenses
i am floating back and forth between expectation and my failure of reaching aspiration

you say
and i remember the first night i kissed you
how i tried to get
until i had no walls
no skin
until i was an ʻauwai
flooding you away from me

Someday you say
but this time not to me
because there are miles caught between our lips
and though i can love you from a distance
i far too near sighted to imagine you doing the same

So instead, i said someday too
and it poured for 30 days and nights until my home became swamp
and the water caught in all the cracks i made with somedays
and so i sat and sang and overflowed with our favorite songs
and said your name, over and over until the falling water knew your shape,
until you both were one and the same

so i said Someday too
and i whispered my aloha to the wind, asking her to bring you back to me
and sometimes she did
and sometimes she didnʻt
and both times, i was here
with the wind, and all the water
still moving anyway

and this is how i know
that someday the rain will fall
and the breeze with blow
and maybe you will be in my arms
or maybe
you wont

and someday
maybe my yard will flood
and these trees will shake and shatter
and it will not conjure the memory of you
here and it will just be me
and the rain
and the wind
together again

with or without you

No comments:

Post a Comment